


Eight Weeks

by imoldgreg



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: And Also Sorry, Bullying, Come Marking, Cumming In Food, Diego Hargreeves Is Not A Good Brother, Dry Humping, Extremely Dubious Consent, It is now, Klaus Breaks His Jaw And Diego Is Into It, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Sibling Incest, Slut Shaming, Spit Kink, cross dressing, everyone is sixteen, i am ashamed, is that a tag?, no beta we die like ben, that’s it, that’s the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imoldgreg/pseuds/imoldgreg
Summary: The Umbrella Academy is a hostile environment to grow up in. It’s not until Klaus breaks his jaw that things start to change, but not for the better.
Relationships: Background Luther Hargreeves/Allison Hargreeves - Relationship, Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 6
Kudos: 116





	Eight Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for so long so I figured why not

Before Klaus broke his jaw, Diego didn’t like him. Sure they were brothers, but not by blood, barely even through friendship. As far as Diego had been concerned, the only reason he had to tolerate Klaus was because of a piece of paper. And he didn’t tolerate Klaus. So that piece of paper could go shove itself up their father’s ass.

They’d all grown up together, and over the last few years everyone had developed their own little personality – as much as someone could when given only an afternoon a week for free time, and forced into stifling uniforms and strenuous training otherwise.

Luther was obnoxious in his loyalty to dad, and took his role as 'Number One' far too seriously. He became a bully to the others, all except Allison, but especially towards Klaus and Vanya. Because of his height and his strength and his nose firmly wedged in dad's ass he got away with a lot (not that Luther did anything necessarily bad to get away with, but he’d invested in himself the power to deal with what he deemed as bad behavior, though when he’d tried to implement this upon Diego or Five there had been more than a few occasions where Luther had come off worse. Klaus, on the other hand, who was the one Luther liked to 'deal with' most, usually ended up with his head down the toilet, or a bloody nose.)

Allison started smoking. She tried to keep it a secret, but there was always that telltale waft of burnt tobacco that followed her whenever she came back down from the attic, and her room and her clothes always smelt faintly of cigarettes. It was gross, especially when mixed with that cheap perfume she’d stolen from one of the drug stores downtown. Diego didn’t understand how Luther could stand to be around her for more than a few minutes without that nauseatingly artificial smell turning his stomach.

She used her powers on everyone to get her own way, and sometimes at the expense of her siblings if they’d pissed her off. Diego still remembered the time when she’d made Klaus wet himself during an argument over him stealing her makeup again, and he’d refused to talk to her for a month.

She and Luther were just as bad as each other.  
Five was obsessive, and arrogant, and rude. A textbook child genius, just with the addition of biting sarcasm to piss everyone off. He stayed hauled up in his room for as long as possible, and Diego had once had the privilege to sneak a glance inside. The walls were covered in equations, and there were mountains of books and papers everywhere.

The word psychotic came to mind, but of course dad never noticed. When Five spent hours flicking the light switch in his room on and off every night before he could sleep, or when he meticulously placed every pencil and paper on his desk within an exact and carefully measured ten centimeter distance of each other before he could begin writing, or when he had to remake his coffee ten times every morning before it was perfect enough for him to drink – dad never saw a fucking problem.

Diego did. So Diego stayed the fuck away from their very own little psycho. And so did everyone else.

Ben was dead. It had been three years. Klaus kept pretending to talk to him, claiming he could see him. Even Diego could enjoy Luther smacking Klaus about when he lied like that.

And Vanya was Vanya. She didn’t change. She was quiet, and shy, and only spoke to Five, and very rarely Allison. Dad still hated her. Luther still hated her. By that logic, no one else talked to her, and she essentially grew up alone.

Diego himself didn’t see how he’d really changed, but his stutter grew worse as he aged into his teens, and maybe so had his temper. He couldn’t help it when he saw red – things would grow violent very quickly, and he couldn’t stop until he was shoved into a room by himself and locked in. Then, although he’d rather die than admit it, he’d cry. It always happened like that.

The others probably heard him.

His knuckles were always scabbed, and if he flexed them the fragile skin would break. It hurt, and so did the split lip Luther had given him earlier. If he sucked his teeth hard enough he could still taste metal from where he’d latched himself onto his brother’s forearm.

He’d never grown out of biting.

Klaus was annoying. So fucking annoying. He wouldn’t shut up, and despite Luther’s best efforts even getting his head shoved down the toilet twice a week didn’t stop him acting out. He dressed like a slut, and snuck out at night, and kept coming home with bright purple bruises all over his neck, and Diego hated how jealous he was. Why did Klaus get to go out partying with people ten years older than him? Why did he get to have sex, and get drunk, and high, and feel free and happy for a whole night?

It wasn’t fair. Klaus was cheating. And Diego resented him for it. So he never said shit when Luther bullied him, when he twisted his skinny arms behind his back or pulled his hair so hard he cried.

It was after Klaus broke his jaw that things started to change.

Allison had been the first one to see Klaus at the bottom of the stairs, crumpled in a heap and fucking screaming bloody murder, lips tinged blue from shock.

The two of them rarely got along, but sometimes Klaus would get her cigarettes and alcohol, and in return she’d let him wear her eyeliner, and shoplift cheap bralettes for him from thrift stores.

Before Klaus fell they’d been trying on Mom’s heels. Diego was having an argument with Luther in the living room, and the bastard had grabbed Diego by the collar and shoved him bodily against the wall, to which Diego was about to headbutt him right in his stupid face, when a series of loud thuds followed by a pained cry made them both pause.

The sight of Klaus' jaw was.. stomach churning to say the least. Blood pooling at the back of his throat made his sobs gargled, and Diego was hit with the realization of how young Klaus really looked, his green eyes huge and panicked, his skin deathly pale. Allison cried into her blazer sleeve, and Luther actually lifted Klaus up and carried him like a ragdoll to Dad’s office. He didn’t do it to help Klaus – he did it because he was Number One. He didn’t give a shit if Klaus was hurt, he just had a job to do.

Five hadn’t come out of his room, but Vanya had hovered anxiously at the bottom of the stairs.

Klaus' lanky limbs dangled limply in Luther’s hold, and as Diego and Allison followed a few steps behind there was a noticeable trail of dark red blood as it dribbled steadily down Klaus' chin. His sobs had quietened – he’d passed out.

Dad had been furious, but at the sight of Klaus' mangled jaw he’d paled, his eyes widening in shock, and he demanded Klaus be taken into the basement straight away.

While Mom and Pogo and dad were doing.. whatever they were doing in the basement with Klaus on the operating table, everyone else sat around the table in the kitchen, eyes downcast and jaws clenched.

Allison hadn’t stopped crying, and she hid her face in Luther’s shoulder. Five had come out of his room and was quietly making himself coffee. The only give away that this had affected him at all was the sharp clinking of his teeth against the mug as his hand shook.

Diego wasn’t sure how he felt. He was worried, surprisingly more worried than he thought he’d be. He never gave a shit when Klaus snuck out in the middle of the night, or when he found him draped over the toilet with his fingers down his throat because he’d taken too many pills.

But maybe he’d just never really thought about what Klaus was actually doing, how dangerous the things he did actually were.

Or maybe he was lying to himself. Maybe the reason he hated Klaus so much was because he was so scared of losing his brother.

But Klaus was okay. As okay as someone could be with a broken jaw.

It was wired shut, and his cheeks were swollen and bruised and stuffed with something that made talking almost impossible without extreme effort to understand him. His face was badly bruised – his eye sockets, the bridge of his nose, and all around his jaw. He couldn’t eat solids, and had to drink everything out of a tube that he had to insert behind his teeth down his throat.

And Klaus was miserable. He was banned from missions, and training, until he recovered, but instead of taking advantage of his newfound freedom he moped around the house all day, and incoherently begged his siblings to spend time with him whenever they were free.

He didn’t sneak out, he couldn’t smoke, or drink, or dress like a slut anymore. He didn’t put makeup on, or wind everyone up, or make sarcastic remarks that got Diego hot under the collar. He didn’t look pretty anymore. In fact, his little fat cheeks with those big, sad eyes made him look dopey, and stupid.

And Diego liked this new Klaus. Far too much.  
Allison took it easy on him, as she felt responsible for the accident, but Diego and Luther unintentionally joined forces to make Klaus' life a living hell now they had the opportunity to really teach him a lesson without any irritating backchat.

Physically they weren’t too bad, made sure to never go anywhere near his face, but Diego loved to point out how ugly Klaus was now, how stupid and helpless he was. He called Klaus fat a lot as well, as since being unable to do training or missions, Klaus’ tiny frame had filled out a little, and when Diego grabbed him it was still sharp bone and tight muscle, but with a soft layer over the top. Something to dig his nails into. Something to bruise.

And it got bad, even by Luther’s standards.  
There were the normal things, like Chinese burns, or shoving him about, or stealing shit from his room and then locking him out when he tried to get it back. And maybe some things were a little uncalled for, like when they locked him in the 'haunted' spare bedroom one night with all the lights off, or when they’d caught a frog outside and put it in Klaus' bed, to which he cried and had to sleep with Allison for the following week out of fear that his slimy green bedmate would return.

“you’re jush mean,” he’d slurred tearfully, clutching round Allison's middle for protection as Diego lingered in the doorway, smirking.

“What was that Klaus? You might need to speak up a little,” Diego had jeered, and Klaus had teared up again and said something unintelligible, to which Allison had sighed heavily and slammed the door in Diego’s face.

“Knock it off Diego, give him a break,” she’d shouted through the door before turning on some music to drown out his response. Diego smirked and sloped off, considering if maybe he should slow Klaus' taunting down. 

But Diego couldn’t stop. It had started to get him off, and he wasn’t quite sure when the lines had blurred between the satisfaction of seeing Klaus cry and the need to shove him onto his knees and cum all over that stupid, fat face.

He should’ve felt disgusting. He should’ve stopped.  
He did neither of those things.

In fact, he just got worse.

Like when he forced the tube Klaus suckled his food from down his little brother's throat, and took turns spitting down it with Luther, Klaus struggling helplessly from where he was pinned on the couch, Diego straddling his stomach and Luther pinning his tiny wrists above his head.

“You swap spit with all those guys you meet at parties Klaus, you should fucking love this,” Luther hissed, his own feelings of jealousy over Klaus' previous freedom almost as powerful as Diego's own.

Klaus had whined and shook his head desperately, kicking his legs out behind Diego and tugging uselessly at his wrists in Luther’s grip. His protests were gargled moans and pathetic whines that had Diego straining in his shorts, and watching as Klaus had no choice to swallow, face screwed up in disgust, cheeks wet with tears, made heat curl in his stomach. It was obvious in the position was in. He knew both his brothers had seen it. Neither commented on it.

Or when Klaus started wearing Allison’s skirts with his uniform instead of the shorts, and Diego pulled the back of it up in front of everyone in the living room. It seemed Klaus' interest in women’s clothes didn’t stop with outerwear, and everyone had either snorted derisively or looked away quickly when the soft black lace between Klaus' cheeks became visible.

“I thought you liked wearing women's clothes?” he’d purred in Klaus' ear, and Klaus had struggled in Diego’s tight hold around his waist, desperately pulling at the fabric in his hand to bring the skirt back down.

He'd tearfully told Diego to ‘fu off' and 'leaf him lone' when he’d finally let him go, but Luther was eager to join in and pretended not to understand what Klaus had said, despite the fact their little brother was getting used to having his cheeks stuffed now, and his speech was a little more coherent than it was before.

“What was that Klaus? You want us to go tell Dad?”  
And Klaus had whined like a baby, and agreed to tidy Luther’s room in exchange for his silence.

But even Luther had got bored with a mostly mute Klaus, and settled with just making fun of him every so often.

But Diego didn’t.

The first time it happened was a shock to both of them. Diego had Klaus pinned against the dining room table, his chest pressed heavily to Klaus' back, his hand fisted in his curls.

He couldn’t remember why he was even pinning Klaus – something about him stealing one of Diego’s knives, but Diego had gotten that back almost instantly.

But Klaus was wriggling, and the swell of his ass kept pressing against Diego’s crotch, and he kept making those pathetic little noises. It made Diego unconsciously roll his hips against his brother, and Klaus stilled beneath him, letting out a little surprised huff of air.

Diego knew he could feel how hard he was with them pressed together so closely.

Klaus was panting softly, making little soft whimpers every few breaths. With his jaw wired how it was, he wouldn’t be able to shout for anyone to come see what was going on.

So Diego took a risk, and dry humped Klaus in the middle of the dining room.

It was awkwardly silent. Neither of them said anything save for the heavy breathing and occasional grunt that slipped out from between Diego's clenched teeth. He tightened his grip in Klaus' hair. Really shoved his hips hard against his ass.

Klaus let out a soft, punched-out moan, his eyes squeezed shut.

Diego came in his pants at that stupid little sound. And then he pulled away, awkwardly tugging at his shorts as Klaus straightened up stiffly. He was hard, Diego could see it. But Diego wasn’t gay, so he didn’t even consider it.

Neither of them spoke about it. There was a weird tension now between them. It was thick whenever they were alone together, both highly aware of what had happened.

But then it happened again. This time Klaus was laying on his back on the sofa. Diego was straddling his chest. They'd been wrestling over something stupid, really just an excuse for Diego to press his erection against Klaus as much as possible. He did that a lot – rubbed off against Klaus while pretending to fight him. It made Klaus squirm and shake his head and press his thighs together, but his protests were weak.

This time Diego actually took his cock out, and rubbed it right over Klaus' face. Klaus' eyes were huge, fixed on the glistening head of his prick only inches away from his mouth.

When Diego came over his face Klaus flinched like he wasn’t expecting it. The image of his brother's swollen, bruised face covered in ropes of his cum was incredible.

Diego couldn’t get enough.

Klaus tried to avoid him, Diego could tell. He couldn’t deny he felt a little guilty. But it was Klaus. Klaus was a slut, he'd done a lot worse with a lot of other men. He probably liked it, and Diego couldn’t help it if Klaus finally being brought to heel made his cock hard. He'd always been such a brat it was nice to have him finally shut up. Even if he did take him a while to get as into it as Diego.

The others never said anything, even Allison. She'd tried standing up for Klaus initially, but when Luther stopped tormenting their little brother and started spending more time in her room with the door locked there was no one to protect him.

She still babied him whenever she wasn’t.. doing whatever she was doing with Luther. Now Klaus wasn’t so arrogant and pushy she could play mommy, a role she claimed to detest due to gender stereotypes but Diego knew she secretly adored.

She helped spoon-feed Klaus his soft food when he finally didn’t need the tube anymore. Diego played along, holding Klaus' hair tight so he couldn’t pull away, because Klaus had always been a wriggler. Allison assumed it was Diego helping Klaus to keep getting his nutrients, as before he'd had the habit of skipping meals. So when Klaus wriggled and made a fuss she chided him, and allowed Diego to pull his hair.

“Come on Klaus, you gotta eat it,” she cooed, pushing the plastic spoon against his swollen lips, and Klaus whined, accepting the spoon but squeezing his eyes shut.

“Good boy Klaus,” Diego purred, feeling his shorts tighten as his little brother glanced between them with those stupid, sad eyes.

Little did Allison know that Klaus had watched Diego cum in his food barely five minutes earlier.

The two of them worked together without Allison even being aware of it, and it tore Klaus apart between enjoying being somebody's baby for once and Diego's ‘unwanted’ affections.

She liked to dress him up in her skirts, and dresses, just like before he'd fucked his jaw up. She did his makeup, made him up all pretty. But this time there were no other men to admire Klaus in these outfits, touch him, fuck him, tell him how pretty he looked.

It was just Diego.

“Fuck off!” Klaus whined, his words still badly slurred by the brace. He was getting much better at talking now, but his meds made him dopey and a little slow, still too weak from lack of training to fight against him.

Diego pushed him down on the bed, face down ass up. He still hadn't fucked Klaus. He wouldn’t fuck him. He wasn’t gay. He wasn't even really sure how it worked between two guys. But rubbing off over his lace covered ass was something that could hardly be considered gay, right? It could’ve been a girl for all his dick knew. And Klaus was barely a guy. Pretty much a girl.

He sounded like one, stupid breathy moans and whines. He was straining against his panties as Diego thrust his cock between his cheeks.  
Klaus buried his face in the pillows, his curls a wild mess, his face flushed and eyes wet.

“You're so good for me,” Diego growled, thrusting hard enough to force little punched out groans at each roll. He dug his fingers into the meat of Klaus' hips. There would be bruises. But Klaus was always covered in bruises, even before. Wouldn’t make much difference.

Before Diego came he manhandled Klaus over onto his back and jerked off over his face. He pinned his skinny wrists above his head with his free hand. His little brother looked transfixed, eyes glued to his cock, hair sticking to his forehead. He never made Klaus cum, never touched his cock, but Diego could clearly see the thick outline of it beneath the lace, the wet spot it had made. It was better for both of them if he didn't touch it, less weird right? Definitely less gay.

When he came Klaus subtly angled his face up and parted his lips. He'd stopped squirming at the feeling of getting cum on his face a while back, and Diego knew the little slut loved it.

He smeared the mess over Klaus' skin with his cock, and slapped him with it. Klaus' meds made it so his jaw didn’t hurt anymore, so Diego didn’t really have to worry about getting a little rough with him anymore, so long as no real pressure was applied.

“You're so pretty,” he breathed, still coming down from the high of his orgasm. Klaus preened, but kept wriggling, making little whiney noises.

Diego raised an eyebrow, and Klaus gave him his infamous puppy dog eyes.

“Please Diego,” he practically whimpered, cheeks hot. Diego set his jaw. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t gonna touch Klaus.

Maybe it was hot to get Klaus so worked up with no release. Maybe it was slightly hotter to imagine Klaus soaking those delicate little panties with cum. Maybe Diego wanted to slide his tongue over the material, feel how hot and hard his baby brother was. Maybe without the material in the way.

But he didn’t. Instead he got off the bed, and tucked himself away. He said something mean, laughed at Klaus being gay or something, and his baby brother practically sobbed.

It didn’t matter anyway, because Klaus got the brace removed a few days later.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at endings srry :/


End file.
